


we will come back home

by nighimpossible



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighimpossible/pseuds/nighimpossible
Summary: Sylvain’s not sure when he started yelling, but he is certainly yelling now. It’s that Felix is not getting it, and Sylvain just knows that the louder he says what he’s feeling, the easier it will be to get the words through Felix’s thick skull. “I’m not being dramatic, I’m telling you the truth!”“Then stop telling me the truth!” Felix blurts out, and suddenly he has his hands wrapped up in the fabric of Sylvain’s lapels. “You sound like acrazy personright now.”*Or, Sylvain comes home with Felix to the Fraldarius Dukedom.





	we will come back home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [engine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/engine/gifts).

> For Kate's birthday! Enjoy these idiots in love. Title from "From Now On," from the Greatest Showman. Please listen to the Zac Brown Band version and cry with me.

When Felix tells Sylvain that he will be returning to the Dukedom of Fraldarius in order to arrange things in his father’s house now that the war is over, Sylvain is surprised. 

“I thought you hated your old man,” Sylvain says. “I didn’t think you cared much about making things right by him.”

Felix thins his eyes and looks down at his hand, which rests on the pommel of his sword. Sylvain can’t remember a time when Felix wasn’t on his guard. “I _did_ hate the old man. Which is why I have to return home. He probably screwed things up back there like he always did.” Felix lets out a huff of a sigh. “But now I’m the only one who’s left to fix things. It’s annoying.”

At this point, Professor Byleth pokes her head into the training grounds. “It’s good that you’re going home,” she tells Felix. “After all, what’s the point of winning the war if there isn’t a home to go to afterwards?”

“The point is _ winning_,” Sylvain says with a grin, looking over at Felix who gifts him with a small smirk of his own. Warm affection blossoms in Sylvain’s chest as Felix nods. The professor shrugs her shoulders before darting away. 

“You know, Felix,” Sylvain starts, propelled by Felix’s smile, “maybe I could come home with you. Help out with the rebuild.”

Felix raises an eyebrow. “The women of my house have already been forbidden to fraternize with any Gautiers.”

“You really think I’m that much of a jerk?” Sylvain laughs, putting a hand over his wounded heart. “Plus, you know what they say about breaking the rules. It makes a romance even _ more _ enticing. I’m sure there will be _ plenty _ of folks in the Fraldarius Dukedom itching to get their hands on some forbidden fruit.”

The moment the boast leaves Sylvain’s lips he realizes that it may not have been the best play. It’s only once Felix has knocked Sylvain’s legs out from under him and he’s belly up on the floor of the training grounds that Sylvain knows, in truth, how badly he fucked up.

“You are banned from the Fraldarius Dukedom,” Felix hisses, pressing the flat of his boot against the Sylvain’s chest. “_Banned_.”

“_You’re _ just scared of what a Gautier will do to your household,” Sylvain grunts out. “You’re afraid they’re going to like me better than they like you.”

Felix removes his foot very, very slowly from Sylvain’s chest. “Oh, I know they'll like you better. That's not the problem at all.”

Felix leaves the training grounds before Sylvain can prop himself up, dramatic as ever.

“I’m coming with you!” Sylvain calls from the floor. "Just try and stop me!"

* * *

When Sylvain shows up at the stables the next morning with a packed bag, Felix simply sighs in defeat. “Just don’t slow me down,” he mutters at Sylvain as he hops onto his own horse.

Sylvain keeps that promise, and in fact it’s Felix who calls for a short break a little after midday. 

“Here,” Felix says, tossing something at Sylvain's chest. “Ashe made it for me. I’m not hungry, so.” It’s a roast beef sandwich.

“Ashe’s food is the best, I can’t believe you’re giving this up,” Sylvain marvels. The morning on horseback has given Sylvain quite an appetite. He makes quick work of the food.

“You’ll choke if you eat so fast,” Felix warns him.

“Can’t a man enjoy a sandwich in peace?” Sylvain says through a mouthful of bread. Felix tilts his head, obviously trying to decipher Sylvain’s muffled words. Sylvain swallows and clarifies. “Look. I didn’t choke. Happy now?”

“Thrilled,” Felix says flatly. He lays himself back in the grass and looks up at the sky. Sylvain takes a greedy moment to stare.

If someone had told Sylvain five years ago that he would be spending a solid week of quality time with Felix, he probably would have choked on a sandwich before laughing them out of the monastery. But it’s been a long journey defined by the horrors of war—and the thorns that used to drive Felix and Sylvain apart have been pruned by the hardships of those intervening years. The two of them have grown up. In many ways, they are different people now.

For one, they are shaped like men these days. Sylvain appreciates the way Felix’s shoulders fill out his armor, even if he’s not quite as broad as Dedue or Raphael. He’s come a long way from the skinny little kid who used to follow Sylvain and Ingrid around all those years ago. Sylvain’s eye trails down the stripe of sunlight on Felix’s thigh. The sun shines down upon the two of them through the leaves on the tree above them, making intricate patterns on the grassy lawn.

“What are you looking at?” Felix asks sourly. He stretches his arms wide, and Sylvain finds his eyes drawn to the gloved hands that are but a few inches from his face. When exactly did Felix’s fingers get so long?

Sylvain swallows before looking away. Felix is certainly grown.

“Nothing. The light is pretty here,” Sylvain mutters. 

“Always thinking about pretty little things,” Felix says with a roll of his eyes. When he sits up, his ponytail is ruffled by their journey and the grass. It’s all Sylvain can do not to reach out and fix the strands of hair escaping the ribbon at the nape of Felix’s neck. “Can’t you focus on anything?”

In many ways, however, they remain the same.

“Guess not,” Sylvain shrugs weakly.

“Pathetic,” Felix says, but he laughs all the same before offering Sylvain a hand and pulling him to his feet. “Come on, we’re more than halfway there.”

* * *

It’s not a Blue Lions adventure without a little bloodletting.

“Felix, duck!” Sylvain calls out before casting a ball of flame at the demonic beast right behind them. He’s lucky that Felix is quick—the blast detonates about a half-second after Felix darts out of the way. The creature had snuck up upon them and nearly thrown Sylvain from his steed. It’s been years since their first encounter with this kind of creature, though—and the two of them make quick work of this enemy.

“Nice shot,” Felix nods at Sylvain, twirling around to aim his bow at the creature’s open maw. “_Too slow_.”

The creature writhes in pain as a volley of arrows find their way to the back of its throat. It collapses in a heap on the ground. They make a good team—they always have.

“Good thing I came with you, huh?” Sylvain asks, waiting for praise.

“I suppose your fireball was _ nearly _ worth the incessant chatter en route,” Felix says with a shrug.

“_Gee, thanks Sylvain,_” Sylvain mimics. “_So glad you had my back_.”

Felix snorts before re-saddling, swinging a long leg over his horse. “Do I even have to say it anymore?”

Sylvain smiles at that remark. 

“Don’t make that face,” Felix says immediately.

“It’s just my face,” Sylvain says.

“We’ve killed like a hundred of these things during the war,” Felix points out.

“I’m not making any face! You just, you know. Like having me around,” Sylvain says with a grin.

“Oh, you’re never getting a compliment from me again,” Felix groans.

“_It was barely a compliment_—”

* * *

The Fraldarius Dukedom is somewhat familiar to Sylvain. Granted, it’s been many years since he spent his summers there as a child—but it’s the same castle with the same parapet that Glenn once locked him in. He sees the same fields that he chased Ingrid and Felix around until their legs gave out and they collapsed in a messy heap.

It’s always strange, coming back to a place he knew only as a child. The sweet nostalgia flows over Sylvain like a series of unrelenting waves. He nudges his horse forward, pulled in as if by the tide.

“Welcome home, my lord,” one of the stable-boys bow as Felix and Sylvain ride into view.

“Good evening, Jermaine,” Felix nods, clasping hands with the young boy. “Please tend to our horses, it’s been a long ride.”

“You know my name, sir?” Jermaine balks.

Felix makes a derisive noise. “Of course. I know everyone who lives under my roof.”

Sylvain’s eyebrows rise. Of those that live in Castle Gautier, Sylvain could probably name...half? To be fair, it’s a lot of people to keep track of and his father handles most things regarding the Gautier estate. Regardless, it’s an impressive feat.

“Come on,” Felix shrugs. “I’ll get someone to make your room up.”

* * *

It doesn’t take long for someone to approach Sylvain, and it’s not like Sylvain _ blames _herfor being attracted to a roguish young nobleman with a Crest to boot, but he’s kind of over it: over being pursued by people who only want him for his name, or his Crest, or both. In truth, he’s over most people. Maybe that’s why he’s been getting along so well with Felix these days.

“You know, Lord Gautier, I have a lot to teach a young man like yourself,” Forsythia preens in his direction. It’s always weird when people Sylvain knew as a kid hit on him as an adult, but Sylvain had always kind of gotten a cougar vibe from this particular governess even as a teenager.

“No offense, but I only accept lessons from one professor—and she’s not you,” Sylvain laughs.

The slap comes out of nowhere. “Ungrateful _ swine_!” she huffs, darting away before Sylvain can even raise his hand to his face.

It turns out that Felix had been watching the whole debacle, as he makes his way over quickly.

“Already pissing off the locals? Didn’t I tell you that I swore the Fraldarius women off you?” Felix mutters, moving Sylvain’s hand to oversee the damage. “You’re red as a beet.”

“So not my fault,” Sylvain says, rubbing his cheek. “Apparently I’m irresistible.”

“Trust me when I tell you you are completely resistable,” Felix says in a surprisingly dark tone of voice. "Come on, let's get you an ice pack."

* * *

It’s past midnight, but Sylvain often finds it difficult to sleep these days. Nightmares go part and parcel with wartime. It’s just easier to commit to a sleepless night than see those relentless battlefield terrors when he closes his eyes. It's annoying, really. Sylvain used to _love_ sleeping.

No one escaped the war unscathed, so Sylvain isn’t tremendously surprised to find Felix on a parapet well past midnight.

“Hey, stranger,” Sylvain announces in greeting. Felix just looks over his shoulder before staring back over the land of the Dukedom that roll out beyond the castle. Sylvain comes to stand next to him. The moonlight casts a silvery glow across the landscape and Sylvain is surprised to see that this is actually a pretty good view.

“Getting bored yet?” Felix asks.

“Bored? We just got here,” Sylvain says with a laugh. “Anyway, I’m never bored with you.”

Felix turns his head away at that comment. “This place is weird without my father here.” It’s a strangely vulnerable admission, one that Sylvain does a double take at. Felix has only ever brought his father up with disdain.

“Do you miss your father?” Sylvain asks. In a fit of bravery, he puts a hand on Felix’s shoulder and gives him a short squeeze. To Sylvain’s shock, Felix does not pull away.

“In a lot of ways, he felt more like Dimitri’s father than my own,” Felix admits, turning back to look up at Sylvain. “He was always far kinder to the boar than he was to his own blood.” Finally, Felix pulls back out of Sylvain’s reach.

“And that’s why you hate Dimitri so much,” Sylvain says, trying to put two and two together.

Felix makes a face. “I don’t hate the boar prince. Not anymore.” Felix bites at his lip before admitting, quietly, “Whatever. People are allowed to miss their parents.” Felix looks down at a black iron spur that he twirls between his fingers. “I’m allowed to miss my family.”

Sylvain’s brow furrows. The spur belonged to Glenn, Felix’s older brother who died before the war even began. He was Ingrid’s betrothed and Felix’s north star. Sylvain hasn’t thought about Glenn in a long time, but in truth Glenn had been much more of an older brother to Sylvain than Miklan ever was. The hole he left in the Fraldarius family never healed over.

“It was never supposed to be me, you know,” Felix says quietly. “Glenn was supposed to lead the Dukedom. He was… everything I’m not.” Felix sniffs. “People _ liked _ Glenn. Hell, people liked my father, too.”

“Hey. People like you too, you know,” Sylvain offers. Felix barks out a hollow laugh. “Well, _I_ like you, anyway.” Felix makes a strange expression, and it lends Sylvain hope to continue. “Whatever you feel about your father or Glenn is fine. I was just—I guess I wanted to know what’s going on with you.”

Felix frowns. “Why?”

Sylvain takes a deep breath before throwing an arm over Felix’s shoulders. It’s another moment of bravery rewarded by Felix letting out a soft sigh. “I don’t know what I’d feel if my dad passed away. He puts a lot of responsibility on my shoulders. He’s more like a taskmaster than a parent.”

At first, Felix twitches at the touch, but Sylvain doesn’t let him weasel out of the embrace. When Sylvain brings up the word _ taskmaster_, Sylvain huffs out a short laugh.

“I know that feeling,” Felix nods.

Sylvain smiles broadly at Felix and later on, Sylvain will swear to anyone who asks that a soft blush came across Felix’s face. Sylvain is certain that Felix will deny it, regardless.

* * *

There are a thousand things to do within the Fraldarius estate itself, and Felix’s time is quickly taken up by land disputes amongst various lords and ladies under his leadership. Sylvain decides to leave all that boring stuff to Felix and instead decides to wander the grounds.

“Hey mister, did you come to help us?”

A gaggle of kids are pushing a wheelbarrow towards what looks to be an abandoned monastery. One of them has approached Sylvain with an inquisitive expression on his face. He’s got a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Sylvain finds plainly adorable.

“What are you guys doing?” Sylvain asks. Before he gets a response, he picks up the handles of the wheelbarrow and starts wheeling it in the direction of the ruined church.

“The war broke the chapel. We’re helping fix it.”

Sylvain has his own feelings about the church, but he can certainly lend a hand. After all, he came to the Fraldarius Dukedom to actually help Felix out. This he can absolutely do.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks the kids.

It’s a long day of hard work mostly directed by a few rather skilled carpenters. The kids are somewhat helpful until Sylvain starts swinging one around, and then _ all _ the kids want a turn. It’s around this time that Felix shows up looking _ most _amused.

“Working hard or hardly working?” Felix asks, a hint of mirth in his tone.

“Sylvain is making us fly, my lord!” one of the little boys scream in delight. The rest of the kids giggle in delight.

“I think I’ve been relegated to babysitter,” Sylvain admits, wiping the sweat from his brow. “But it’s all good fun, you know?”

Felix crosses his arms and gives him a hint of a smile. “Just don’t let anyone get hurt. I won’t hear the end from their parents.”

“Sure thing,” Sylvain grins, twirling a little girl around. “How are things looking with your vassals?”

“Annoying,” Felix mutters. To Sylvain’s surprise, he too lifts a child in the air and spins them around. “You picked the better job.”

“I’m kind of smart,” Sylvain grins.

“It makes sense that you'd pick the smart route when avoiding the real work," Felix says with a smile. They don't leave until the job is essentially done.

* * *

“_Hey Felix? Do you remember when we were kids and we made a promise about dying together?” _

_ “I remember.” _

_ “Well, it seems we’re about to kill each other.” _

_ “Sorry, Sylvain. You’ll die first_.”

_ “I was such a fool…” _

Sylvain wakes up in a cold sweat from another nightmare, this time of a future that never came to pass.

“Fuck,” Sylvain hisses, running a finger through his damp hair.

Sylvain has often thought of the _ what if_—what could have happened if fate hadn’t so strongly intervened in their favor. If Dimitri had never come back from the brink of insanity. If the professor had never returned. If Felix—

Sylvain throws on a shirt he doesn’t bother to button and sets off from his room.

Felix’s room is on the second floor of the castle. Sylvain hasn’t seen it from the inside since they were kids playing knight and maiden with Ingrid. To be fair, Sylvain was always the maiden. 

What? He liked to be wooed.

He knocks on Felix’s door with a soft rap of his knuckles. Sylvain is only a little apologetic when Felix answers a few moments later, half dressed and half-asleep.

“What’s going on?” Felix asks, and Sylvain just pushes his way into Felix’s room.

“Do you ever think about if we had ended up on different sides?” Sylvain asks bluntly. He feels a little wild at the edges, heart thumping hard in his chest.

Felix wipes his eyes and closes the door behind Sylvain. “No.” Sylvain stops pacing in front of Felix and stares. 

“You never think about what could have happened?” Sylvain is agog. “Felix, sometimes I think that’s all I think about.”

Felix shrugs. “That’s not a life I would have allowed myself to live. Either we live together or we die together. There’s no other option.” The moment the words are out of Felix’s mouth, he is beet red, flushed across the cheeks like someone slapped him twice across the face. “So, you know,” Felix mutters as an afterthought, “I don’t really think about it.” He looks directly at the floor between them. 

Sylvain stands stock still. It turns out that Felix can still surprise him, even after all these years. “You say the strangest things sometimes,” Sylvain murmurs. “it makes me wonder.”

Felix looks up at Sylvain. “Wonder what?”

Sylvain has committed at this point, it’s only a matter of when he can get the right words out. “You know you’re more than just my best friend, right?”

Felix looks surprised at the terminology. “Best friend?” The idea that Felix doesn’t think that they’re best friends _ kills _ Sylvain.

But Sylvain wants more than friendship. 

“I would have killed the Death Knight himself to keep you safe, you know,” Sylvain says quietly.

“Idiot. You would have died, facing off with that menace alone,” Felix says, his words coming quickly. He strangely sounds out of breath.

“Well then I would have died to keep you safe,” Sylvain proclaims.

Felix rolls his eyes. “Stop being dramatic.”

Sylvain’s not sure when he started yelling, but he is certainly yelling now. It’s that Felix is not getting it, and Sylvain just _ knows _ that the louder he says what he’s feeling, the easier it will be to get the words through Felix’s thick skull. “I’m not being dramatic, I’m telling you the truth!”

“Then stop telling me the truth!” Felix blurts out, and suddenly he has his hands wrapped up in the fabric of Sylvain’s lapels. “You sound like a _ crazy person _ right now.”

“I think you can handle it,” Sylvain says simply, putting his hands over Felix’s. They are warm to the touch, and Felix jumps at the connection like he’s been electrocuted.

“Shut up, Sylvain—” Felix hisses, his fingers curling into fists, bringing Sylvain closer.

“Is it so wrong of me to think you can handle the truth?” Sylvain asks, now quiet and calm.

“Sylvain, I swear if this is a joke—” Felix voice breaks off. His eyes look glassy in the dim light of the stars out the window. “Please don’t play around with me.”

“Never,” Sylvain promises before pulling him into a kiss.

Felix melts in his arms. He wraps himself around Sylvain like can’t get close enough, and Sylvain’s not going to complain. He tastes hot and salty under Sylvain’s tongue. It’s been a long time since a kiss has felt this right. Sylvain threads his fingers greedily into Felix’s hair, scratching at Felix’s head. The groan Felix makes in return is exquisite.

“I’ve been such a fool,” Sylvain mutters, pulling Felix back onto the bed. He kisses the skin of Felix’s jaw, stubble rough against his lips. Felix easily falls into his lap and tucks his head into Sylvain’s neck, nosing against his throat until he bites down hard enough to elicit a hiss from Sylvain.

When Felix finally pulls back, his eyes are red and watery. _ Tears for him? _ “Shut up, shut up, don’t make fun of me. I’m just—I didn’t think you wanted—and I’ve. For so _ long_, Sylvain—”

“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” Sylvain hums, holding him close, rubbing concentric circles along his back. “Shut up so I can kiss you again, please.”

“You’re sure?” Felix asks quietly.

“I'm sure that I love you,” Sylvain tells him frankly. “I just didn’t recognize that feeling until recently.”

“How recent?” Felix frowns.

“Give or take a few months,” Sylvain shrugs.

“_Months_,” Felix groans, pressing Sylvain back onto the bed. “You’re telling me that we could have been doing this for _month__s_—”

“You’re the one who always denied my advances! Felix, I essentially came home with you against your will.” Sylvain is laughing and Felix is blushing.

“Take your stupid pants off,” Felix says tightly. “_You’re _ the one always going out with girls.”

“Not so much, recently,” Sylvain shrugs. “Also, kind of hard to get my pants off with you sitting on me.”

“Lazy, no good,” Felix sighs, lifting his hips up and shucking Sylvain’s pants down his thighs, “_idiot _ of a man. It makes sense that I would be cursed by someone like you.”

“Cursed?” Sylvain asks, reaching his hands down and undoing Felix’s drawstring. He slithers his fingers down to grasp him. Felix groans, melting against Sylvain once more. “I think you like being cursed, my lord.”

“Shut up, Sylvain,” Felix huffs, rolling his hips into Sylvain’s hands. “Please—”

“Alright, okay,” Sylvain sighs, bringing him down to kiss him once more. “Come here.”

For perhaps the first time in Felix’s life, he does what Sylvain asks of him. Felix presses his chest against Sylvain’s like he cannot get close enough. In turn, Sylvain luxuriates in tracing his hands over the muscles he has spent years watching from afar in the training grounds. Sylvain groans at the whine Felix makes when Sylvain grips his ass.

“You like that?” Sylvain asks.

“Shut up,” Felix hisses, rutting his hips down against Sylvain’s. Sylvain squeezes him again and Felix digs his face into Sylvain’s neck. His admission is therefore muffled: “_Yes_, I like it, okay. S’good.”

In an instant, Sylvain flips them so that Felix is pinned beneath him. For a moment, Sylvain is reminded how much broader and taller he is than Felix. He drags one hand down Felix’s bare chest, nails digging lightly into the pale skin. Light pink lines trail behind his fingertips. “People are gonna say you lost a fight with a wild animal,” Sylvain grins.

“Please,” Felix says with a laugh. “People are gonna say you lost a fight with a demonic beast.” He points at Sylvain’s neck where he’s left a bite mark.

“Little do they know we both won,” Sylvain says with a smirk.

A look of fondness crosses over Felix’s face. He reaches up and cups Sylvain’s cheek in his hand. “Yeah,” Felix whispers. “We both won.”

It’s so sweet that Sylvain has to kiss him again.

Felix comes apart easily in his hands. The quiet huffs turn to whimpers as he grows closer to his release, and Sylvain just eggs him on. “Come on, _ my lord_, let me take you there,” he murmurs to Felix.

“_Sylvain_,” Felix groans, covering his eyes with his arm.

“All you gotta do is let go,” Sylvain sighs, speeding up his hand. “It’s just me here. It’s just me.”

“Just you,” Felix sighs, cheeks flushed and hair askance. “Just us.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain repeats. “It’s just us.”

Only then does Felix let go, hips bucking hard enough that Sylvain has to hold him down. It takes a few moments for Felix to settle, and only once they are both still does Sylvain notice his own throbbing erection.

“I think you killed me, Sylvain,” Felix laughs shakily.

“That would be a real shame,” Sylvain notes. They are both sticky and wet and plastered with sweat but Sylvain wouldn’t trade the look on Felix’s face for anything. Felix takes a look down at Sylvain’s dick and reaches for him.

“It’s okay,” Sylvain says quietly.

Felix frowns. “Do you not—”

“No, no. I want you,” Sylvain says clearly. “You just don’t have to. It’s not, like. Quid pro quo.”

Felix makes a face. “Well, I want to. So come here.” And that’s when Felix takes Sylvain into his mouth.

Sylvain has been hit over the head countless times: in practice, in battle, hell, even in the stables by an errant horse kick. But the feeling of Felix’s hot mouth on him is like someone hitting him over the head a thousand times over and sending him to another dimension. He feels detached from his body, floating in time and space. But he also jolts when Felix licks across the head of his cock like it’s some kind of dessert.

Truth be told, Sylvain has been hard for Felix since Felix closed the bedroom door. It doesn’t take long for Sylvain to get close, and when he does come over Felix’s chest, the whine he makes is more than a little embarrassing.

“Fuck, fuck,” Sylvain hisses, jerking himself through the last throws of his orgasm.

“Pathetic,” Felix says with an affectionate laugh.

“Damn it,” Sylvain sighs. “You really have to be good at everything, don’t you?” Felix preens at the compliment before darting off to grab a dish towel to clean themselves up.

“Can you stay?” Felix asks lightly, once they’re both wiped clean.

“Of course,” Sylvain nods.

“I—I don’t mean just tonight,” Felix adds. He puts his hand on Sylvain’s chest, just above his heart.

Sylvain places his own palm on top of Felix’s fingers. “I know.”

* * *

Sylvain wakes up in Felix’s bed and is surprised to find that Felix is a cuddler. It makes sense that someone who is such a loner during the day craves physical touch at night. Don’t get Sylvain wrong, he likes this side of Felix. It’s just different. Something new.

“Hey,” Felix mutters when he finally awakens. He kisses Sylvain and makes a face. “Your breath is terrible.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sylvain laughs, kissing Felix again.

“Ugh,” Felix groans, kissing Sylvain back with a dreamy sigh. “Disgusting.”

* * *

_ After the war, Felix and Sylvain inherited their respective titles of Duke Fraldarius and Margrave Gautier, and set to work restoring the Kingdom. The two were married soon after the war came to its bitter end, joining their lands into one large estate. Each led a busy life, but that only seemed to enhance their marriage over the years. They split their time between the Dukedom and the Margrave's estate. It is said that, in their later years, they became so close that they passed away on the same day, as if conceding that one could not live without the other _.


End file.
